


The Ghosts of Cheese Trays Past

by EverlivingGhosts



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Humor, Nightmare, The Future, What if?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Cabin Crew Riot 2, under the theme of 'Tarot Cards'</p>
<p>When Martin eats some late night cheese, it causes him to have a nightmare which forces him to reflect on his life choices.</p>
<p>Loosely based on 'A Christmas Carol' (I say loosely...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This is the first Fanfic I've ever really posted to a fanfic site and was written under a bit of pressure so please be nice and I hope you enjoy! :D

 

Martin wished he’d listened to the old wives’ tale that eating cheese before bedtime leads to bad dreams. It had been a late night flight on the way back from Hong-Kong, in which Arthur had typically forgotten their catering but after a good ten minutes of being shouted at by an exasperated Carolyn managed to magic up an ‘emergency cheese tray’ from God knows where. Douglas and Martin tried not to think too hard about this, especially as the cheeses didn’t look passed their best, sat merrily on the tray. Besides, they were too hungry after their long flight and immediately had a fight over the prize Emmental and famed Camembert. Martin, of course, lost spectacularly and was left with the losing cheeses: a sad bit of Brie, some double Gloucester and for some reason, a mini Babybel. Still, food was food and Martin snaffled up his prizes, feeling completely fine until he arrived at his pitiful excuse for a house and opened the door to his attic room. As the door closed and he flumped onto his bed, uniform and all, he started feeling a little queasy but was too tired to move. As he slowly drifted into unconsciousness, the old wives’ tale rung in his ears ominously, and he closed his eyes fitfully. 

He didn’t realise what a nightmare he’d be in for.


	2. Chapter 2

Tap tap tap. Incessant tapping. Where on earth was that coming from? Surely his pitiful sink wasn’t leaking again? Martin turned on his bed with a yawn and froze as he saw Carolyn stood by his bed, impatiently tapping a large staff on the floor. Wait one moment, a staff?  
“It’s wonderful to know that I employ such lazy, lazy pilots.” He opened his eyes even wider. Carolyn Knapp Shappey was stood next to his bed with a staff. And a robe. And looking completely unbothered by this incredibly odd situation.  
“Err, Carolyn? What are you doing in my room? And why…what…how?!”  
“I believe those are the wrong questions to be asking, Martin. What you should want to know is where we are going.”

This was making less sense by the second.  
“Going? But-“  
“And for the sake of argument, I am not Carolyn. You may call me,” At this, Carolyn cast her eyes to the heavens as if cursing some unnamed deity about her rotten luck.  
“The Page of Wands.”  
“But that’s not a wand. It’s a stick.” An exasperated sigh followed these words.  
“Only you, Martin, when confronted by an impending exploration of your life choices and decisions could be so prudish about the distinction of sticks and wands. Yes Martin, that is why I am here. It seems you have some choices to make and I am here to guide you through your decisions .”  
“Being charitable isn’t a very Carolyn thing to do.” The strange version of Carolyn grabbed his arm and hoisted him out of the bed impatiently, ignoring his protests and planting him firmly on the ground.  
“It doesn’t matter what I would do, Martin. Although it pains me to have to pander to your silly whims, the facts remain. You have some serious decisions to make which you have been avoiding, and I, unfortunately, am here to help.” She looked over at him suddenly, a wolfish smirk alighting on her face.  
“And before you make another comment on my ridiculous outfit, I strongly suggest you take a good look at yours.” Immediately, Martin looked down at himself, yet couldn’t see a thing. By now he worked out that he must be in some sort of hellish dream that he somehow couldn’t wake himself out of, and a consequence of this seemed to be that he himself was obscured. But, judging by the lingering smirk on Carolyn’s face, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wanted to know for the moment. He decided to let it go and focus on the present.  
“So, what kind of thing are you going to show me? Starving orphans? My deathbed? Is Charles Dickens going to appear and file a lawsuit?”  
“Oh hearty har har. You’re practically a starving orphan yourself, so there would be no point. And as for deathbed, I might be a strange apparition, but I’m not cruel! Anyway, As the Page of Wands, it is my duty to highlight Indecision and Confusion in your life.” Martin let out a harsh laugh.  
“We’ll be here all night then.”  
Carolyn gracefully chose to ignore this. She pulled out a piece of paper from her robe sleeve and squinted at it in Martin’s poor lighting.  
“And it seems that I have been designated The Past. Damn it, I wanted the future but you can’t win every time I suppose.”  
“Wait, what? Designated? Oh God, there’s more of you? Stop grabbing me!”  
This version of Carolyn was even more forceful than the real thing. Grabbing Martin firmly around the wrist, she once again dragged him across his room, this time to his door which somehow seemed to have turned into a worn, almost Victorian looking oak door, complete with a cast iron handle.  
“Stop squirming, Martin! It’s time to embrace your past!” And with that, they walked through the door and their surroundings dissolved.


	3. Chapter 3

They appeared to be in a run-down house that Martin regarded with a strange feeling of foreboding and familiarity. After a few moments it dawned on him that this was his childhood home in Fitton, a place he had been dearly glad to see the back of. And, to make matters worse, he could see from the doorway that his father’s favourite arm chair appeared to be occupied. He turned to Carolyn.  
“Oh God. I want out. I don’t want to reconcile with my father, I hate this place!” Carolyn merely shook her head.  
“It’s not for me to decide, Martin. Some things are best put to rest.”  
All of a sudden, Martin jumped as his father let out a loud bellow.  
“MARTIN! Come down here this instant!” A faint flicker of memory flashed across his mind, and he groaned as a small red haired boy reluctantly entered the room, head down and hands behind his back.  
“Oh Carolyn, this is cruel.” But the Carolyn-apparition stood as silent as a statue, regarding the unfolding scene with pursed lips. The small boy had approached the chair and was waiting for Martin’s father to speak. Martin’s father had been a tall man, who could have had a pleasant and open face had it not been set in a permanent scowl. This scowl usually became more pronounced whenever Martin appeared, and it was certainly present as he bore down on the quivering young boy. His voice was hardly a whisper; he never had to work hard to get his feelings of anger across.   
“I got your school report today Martin. It was very…interesting.” Older Martin groaned; this particular memory was one that he tried to purge from his mind through the passing years. Younger Martin stayed silent, just as he remembered.  
“Why can’t you be more like Simon and Caitlin, Martin?”   
Ugh, the words still stung.  
“Why do you have to fill your head with stupid dreams? We all thought this absurd dream of flying would pass, Martin and your teachers tell me that you always seem too distracted to achieve good grades. I want you to tell me that you are going to stop.”

Martin had always replayed this scene in his head, hundreds and hundreds of times. As a boy, he’d wanted to scream at his father, scream at a world which always tried to push him down into the godforsaken ground. He closed his eyes as he heard the feeble whisper.  
“I, I can’t, dad.” The room was deadly silent.  
“You can’t what?” The young Martin looked fearfully up, though his face was resolute.  
“I want to fly more than anything. I’m no good at anything else.” When his father was silent, this always spelt out trouble. Shouting meant harsh words, which Martin could almost handle, cradling each slight and insult as he went to bed at night. Silence meant his father was searching his brain for some awful punishment. Martin tensed; he knew what was coming next.  
“Get me your plane, Martin.” He really wished he hadn’t seen the look of horror unfolding on his pasty young face. He watched himself jump with fright at the barked  
“NOW!”   
And scurry out of the room. Martin turned to Carolyn.   
“What the HELL is this supposed to prove? That I had a crap childhood? I could’ve just thought back to any moment in the past for that.” At least Carolyn had the nerve to look a little mollified.  
“I’m sorry, Martin. It will all become relevant, I assure you.”  
The young Martin re-entered the room before Martin could splutter his response. In his hands was a carefully constructed model aeroplane which Martin had spent hours creating and labouriously painting himself. Due to his natural ineptitude, it had truly taken him hours and he had been proud of creating something that wasn’t rubbish or laughed at. Martin stared at it longingly.  
“He knew how much I loved that.”  
Martin’s dad silently reached out a hand and took the plane. For a moment, one hand seemed to caress the wings as if admiring the neat paintwork. Then, before the young Martin could draw a breath, he had cast it to the floor and stamped on it, the harsh crunch harmonising with the poor boy’s sobs.   
“Look at it. This is what will happen if you persist in your stupid, foolish dreams. Now, pick this ridiculous mistake up and then GET OUT OF MY SIGHT.”   
And as he watched the child Martin cradling the wrecked plane with tears streaming down his face, older Martin felt his body swell with pure, unadulterated anger. He stepped towards his father, and Carolyn did not move to stop him.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, you!”   
Martin had half expected his shouts to have no effect on his father, yet the tall figure narrowed his eyes as he seemed to only just notice Martin stood there.  
“I should have known. What the hell do you want?”  
But Martin had had enough. He’d spent too many years of his life trying to handle the scorn of a man who he’d been desperately attempting to gain love and respect from. As a child, Martin hoped that one day he would be able to do something to finally make his dad proud, had thought that he was the problem, but now he was an adult he had more clarity on the matter. His father should have been proud of the son he had, not the son he wanted. He may be a smaller adult than his father, but Martin sure as hell was just as strong.  
“How dare you treat me like I was worth nothing. Like my dreams were stupid and worth giving up on! I have surpassed what you expected of me- I finally became a pilot even though you never believed in me!”  
His father merely sneered.  
“And what an excellent pilot you have made, Martin! Unpaid, laughed at, stuck at an airline on the way down-“   
But Martin had a moment of realisation which cleared the fog that had been present in his mind for as long as he could remember.  
“I don’t need your blessing. I never have. You want to see failure? Look at the man in front of me: a father who couldn’t see past his prejudices enough to love his son who idolised him. I’m sorry that you died before you could see that I finally made something of myself.” His father had stopped, a peculiar expression frozen on his face. Martin carried on his tirade.  
“And as for MJN, yes I might be unpaid, but I’m doing the job I LOVE. We may not always see eye to eye but they have been more of a family than anyone else has been. And about the money,” Martin thought of the potential payment at Swiss Airways.  
“Who cares about the money? Who cares when you have people you love? I’d rather be a poor man in the air having the time of his life than a broke engineer insistent on making sure everyone else suffers.” He worked out what the expression was; regret. He felt a bit bad, but also so justified. It was incredible finally getting his word in. He looked at the pathetic man in front of him, for that was now what he now saw his dad as.  
“I love you, Dad. I just wish you could have loved me and my flaws.”

Carolyn’s hand was on his shoulder; his eyes were blurred with tears, yet he felt triumphant. He felt a slight whirring and the scene began to dissolve. He heard Carolyn’s voice, slightly fading.  
“Acceptance, Martin. You were always worthy of the job, you know? Ah, I do believe the next one has arrived. God help you.” That was rather ominous.   
“MAAAARTIIIN!!! LOOK I’M ALL SHINY”   
Ah. Seemed it was Arthur’s turn now.


	5. Chapter 4

It seemed a bit cheesy to think so, but the only word Martin could think of to describe the Arthur-apparition was ‘brilliant’. He was wearing his normal steward outfit, but with a bright orange shirt, butter yellow trousers and vibrant red shirt that seemed to emanate a flame-like brilliance. Martin had noticed that their surroundings were dark; however around Arthur there was a positive glow. He saw Martin gaping at his flamboyant outfit.  
“Hi Skip! It’s me, Arthur! Although you should probably refer to me as,” At this he puffed out his chest proudly,  
“The Sun.” Martin had to chuckle at this; he guessed the sun did suit Arthur’s shining cheeriness rather well.  
“Am I to expect more depressing memories from you then?” Arthur looked rather shocked at this.  
“Oh no, of course not! I mean, I hope not because that would be horrible. No, because I’m The Sun, it’s my job to make sure you count your blessings!”

“But I know what my blessings-“  
“And also, it looks like I’ve got to show you the present, which is great because I LOVE presents! I know it’s not quite the same but hopefully your present will be a bit like a present if you get what I mean.” Martin sort of did, but one always had to take what Arthur said with a pinch of salt, and sometimes a headache tablet. He wasn’t sure how being shown his present would help, but it seemed like he’d just have to grit his teeth and ride this odd dream out.   
“Ok, Arthur. Let’s go then. It’s not like I have any other choice anyway.” Arthur looked a little crestfallen at this; the light around him seemed to dim slightly.  
“Aww, Skip, we’re only trying to help. We know your head’s been a bit fuzzy what with you getting your interview and everything! Hopefully you’ll feel enlightened by the end of all this.” And now Martin felt bad. Being mean to Arthur like this was a little like treading on an enthusiastic firefly.   
“It’s alright, Arthur. Just remind me never to eat late night cheese again.” At this, Arthur let out a cracking smile and the flame like brilliance seemed to increase once more.  
“Righto, Skip! Oh and by the way, love your outfit! Looks really lovely with your hair!” Martin looked down with annoyance at his mysterious outfit, but once again saw nothing before the scene dissolved into nothingness.


	6. Chapter 6

They appeared to somehow have alighted inside G-ERTI, but Martin wasn’t one to question dream logic. It appeared much the same as it has when Martin left it not hours before; their mugs of coffee still lay on one of the tables where they’d had a chat about Martin’s potential move to Zurich. He had revealed the fact that he’d gotten the job on the flight back from Hong Kong because the flight had been so long and boring that there wasn’t really anything else to discuss, and Martin couldn’t bear to lie any longer. They had been very encouraging, but he could detect a slight sadness about them. He wondered why Arthur had brought him back here.  
“Arthur? Is this G-ERTI from today?” Arthur had sat himself on one of the tables, his glow still present even in G-ERTI.  
“Yes, Skip, just after you left in fact!”  
“Then technically this isn’t the present…it’s the past.”  
Arthur opened and shut his mouth, then put on his classical ‘I’m thinking’ face. After a few flustered second he just said,  
“Well if I showed you the true present everyone would just be in bed and what’s the point of that? Nah, this is sort of the present if you squint a but- I can only work with what I’m given, Skip!” Martin decided to graciously concede. He definitely wasn’t in control here.  
“Ok. Well, what are we doing in here then?” Before Arthur could answer, Douglas, Carolyn and oddly enough Arthur entered the old plane. Carolyn and Douglas leaned against two of the seats while Arthur began his usual cleaning of the plane. How odd. He thought they’d left after he’d snaffled his cheese, but apparently not. The Arthur-Apparition remained seated on his table, silently regarding the others like the Carolyn–Apparition had been doing before him. Douglas was the first to speak.  
“Well. Martin got the job, then. “Carolyn shook her head, a wondrous grin on her face.  
“We shouldn’t be surprised really, Douglas. He’s changed a lot since he was the nervy young thing that arrived five years ago.”  
Arthur called out from where he was cleaning.  
“Oh! I remember that! Went a funny sort of colour when he first got in his Captain chair and did the take-off checks. I thought he was going to faint so I got ready to catch him!” Douglas allowed himself a small, if slightly melancholy smile.  
“Ahh, Martin. How far you have come. Makes me feel rather wistful, actually.”

Ah, so this was what the present was teaching him; what the crew really thought. Martin supposed it was one thing to have them congratulate him, but it was interesting to know what they really thought of the situation. Douglas turned to Carolyn and asked the question Martin was dying to hear, the question they all had running through their heads.  
“Do you really think he should go?” Arthur stopped what he was cleaning to listen. Carolyn looked troubled, as if she was torn between too many possibilities. At last, she spoke.  
“He doesn’t really have any other choice, does he Douglas? As much as I am loathe to shut this business down, and notice I use the term ‘business’ lightly, how can I stop him launching his career?”  
Douglas stayed silent; they all knew Carolyn was speaking the sensible, if slightly hard truth.  
“But, Douglas,” Carolyn looked at him imploringly, which was an unusual thing for her. This immediately piqued Martin’s interest.  
“Even though he got the job, the other pilots…they will make mincemeat out of him. You know what he’s like.”  
Martin winced at this. So Carolyn didn’t think he was cut out for the job? That hurt a surprising amount. Douglas continued his silence, then shuffled slightly.  
“You know what Carolyn? I don’t think they will. After all, he’s been taught by the best.” Carolyn had to smile at this. Arthur joined them, leaning on the table next to Douglas. He looked ready to cry, but seemed to be holding himself strongly. He piped up in a small voice.  
“So, is this the end of MJN then?” The pure sadness in Arthur’s voice clearly affected Douglas and Carolyn. Douglas coughed, and Martin saw him look away and wipe at his face swiftly, and he could definitely see Carolyn’s eyes become watery. Oh god, Carolyn and Douglas, the strong pillars of MJN practically crying? For Martin? Martin turned to the Arthur-Apparition in desperation.  
“I…I didn’t know you all cared…” The Apparition smiled sadly.  
“Oh Skip, you always think the worst of yourself. You think you’re the least important of us all, but how could we carry on without you? Even if MN has to end, well, just know that you were valued.” Martin wanted to reply, but he could see Douglas preparing to speak. Douglas looked towards the front of the plane and said softly,  
“You know what? I’m really going to miss him. Damn hat and all.”  
This, at least caused them all to chuckle softly. Douglas looked at his watch and started to put his coat on.  
“Well, the night isn’t getting any younger.” He laughed a somewhat bitter “And neither am I.” Before saying his goodbyes to Arthur and Carolyn. Watching Douglas leave, Martin saw Arthur put his arm around Carolyn and rest his head on her shoulder, which shocked him slightly as he didn’t think Arthur and Carolyn were the hugging type. And yet, Carolyn put her hand on Arthur’s errant curls, softly patting him as he began to cry onto her. She didn’t complain, only stood there watching the empty doorway.

Martin turned to the Arthur-Apparition.  
“I’m ready to go now.” He said quietly. Arthur nodded.  
It was nice to know that he was appreciated, he supposed, but the thought of leaving MJN was beginning to make him feel awful. Perhaps he had been too quick to think he should go to Zurich. This experience had certainly made him count his blessings. He was once again in blackness and he saw the glowing Arthur-apparition fading as he said,  
“Remember, Skip, no matter what you pick we’ll always love you.” 

Martin felt a soft thud behind him and turned around to face the smirk he knew would be waiting for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Of course, Douglas would look resplendent in a robe complete with a lion’s head and intricate golden weaving. How could he have expected anything else? They both stared at each other, agog. Douglas let out a throaty laugh.  
“Well, well, well. Looking fine, Captain!” This was really, really starting to annoy Martin now.  
“Will someone PLEASE tell me what I’m wearing?” But Douglas just laughed more.  
“All in good time, Martin. Anyway, I have arrived, the last of your oh so productive lessons. You may call me The World.” He sniffily ignored Martin’s muttered “Fat chance of that happening.” And leaned on two intricately carved wooden staffs he appeared to be carrying in each arm.  
“I am here to show you your future. Two possible futures in fact, you lucky man!”  
Martin groaned. He had to admit he’d seen this coming, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready.  
“What if I don’t want to?”  
“You can just walk away, you know. But then, won’t you always be wondering what could have been?” Damn dream Douglas for being as slippery as normal! Even Martin’s own head was his enemy. He sighed and crossed his arms in annoyance.  
“Fine. Where are we going first?”  
Douglas tossed one of the staffs into the darkness; soon enough it began to morph into a sleek grey door, not unlike one of those you got on a swish, expensive aeroplane.   
“It appears, to Zurich!”   
Martin hovered at this door, unsure whether he really wanted to be confronted with his future. Douglas, obviously aware of his discomfort, placed a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder.  
“It’s only a dream, Martin. We create our own fears and anxieties, so all you can do is hope to ride it out.” Martin nodded, and Douglas reached over to open the door.


	8. Chapter 8

They appeared to be in a luxurious looking plane; Martin practically whimpered at the plush seats and shining equipment, beckoning him to have a try. The captain in the chair reeked of importance, control and dignity, his neatly pressed black uniform looking impressive in the glow of the setting sun. He wore effortlessly cool aviator shades, and Martin let out a gasp as he took them off.  
It was him.  
He was older, certainly- it must be at least ten years into the future. The years appeared to have been kind to him, he was still slim and obviously worlds away from his grubby, frantic life in Fitton. He turned to the Douglas-Apparition with wonder, not seeming to notice his slightly grim expression.  
“This…is me?”   
“It is, Martin. Or, rather, what you could become.” Martin noticed a genuine Patek Philippe on his future self’s wrist and whistled.  
“God. Looks like someone’s done well for themselves.”   
He backed into a corner as the door opened and a young, black haired man entered the deck, foolishly forgetting that they could not see him. The younger man was clearly a first officer judging by the number of stripes on his arm, Martin duly noticed. He and Martin both waited for the Future Martin to say something, but no words were forthcoming. The black haired man coughed. Still nothing.  
“Sir?” Martin turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on the clouds.  
“Hmm?” Oh, that’s a bit rude, thought Martin, frowning. The first officer stumbled over his words, clearly nervous.  
“There’s a man on the plane. Says he wants to speak to you.” Future Martin continued staring at the clouds imperiously, until the first officer was forced to awkwardly cough again. Future Martin sighed.  
“Digby, why on earth would I want to speak with a passenger? It is against the rules for them to come in here and I certainly will not be going onto the main plane. Not in a million years.” Martin frowned as Digby shuffled uncomfortably. Oh no, he didn’t like this, he didn’t like this at all-  
“He was very insistent, Sir.” Martin finally turned to him, anger flaring in his eyes.  
“Tell him to go away. I’m busy flying a plane in case anyone has noticed.” Digby winced, yet Martin was pleased to see that he seemed resolute.  
“He said he knew you Sir. Said he was a friend.”   
Martin’s blood ran even colder as he heard Future Martin give a cold laugh.  
“My friends, Digby, do not fly anything other than first class. Who could it possibly be-“  
This horrible comment was interrupted as the door was flung open. Martin gasped as none other than Arthur flung himself into the room, clearly bouncing with enthusiasm. Age had clearly kept its withering hands from Arthur. Although he must be nearing forty, there was still the same childish grin and bouncing curls. The only difference, perhaps, was a slight sadness around the eyes and the obvious cheapness of his clothes. And the beard. For some reason beyond Martin’s apparently miniscule imagination, Arthur had decided to grow a beard in the following ten years after his departure from MJN. He didn’t even know Arthur had the ability to grow a beard. There really were some wonders in life. This Future Arthur gaped at Martin in his fancy uniform.  
“Skip, oh Skip! Look at you! Oh, can I still call you Skip or should I call you Martin instead?” Future Martin looked shocked for a couple of seconds, but regained his composture quickly.  
“Captain Crieff will do.” He said stiffly. There was a definite awkwardness after this sentence was declared; an awkwardness in which Arthur’s limitless enthusiasm somehow seemed to wane.  
“Ok…Captain Crieff. How have you been? We haven’t heard from you in years. Me and Mum I mean.”   
“Oh, well. I’ve been a bit busy, Arthur.” The longer Martin spoke, the quieter and less animated Arthur became. He seemed to be regarding Martin in a whole new light. It seemed Arthur, despite appearances, had really grown up in that decade.   
“Too busy, for us?” Martin felt sadness and anger blossom inside him as he saw his future self-roll his eyes in clear annoyance.  
“Yes, Arthur. Is that too hard for you to understand.” Wrong, wrong, WRONG. This was all wrong!  
Arthur drew himself up to his full height and regarded Martin with a most un-Arthurish disdain. He looked so much like Carolyn that Martin had to do a double take.  
“Yeah, well. If you’re too busy then I guess I’ll leave.” Future Martin merely faced the front window again. Arthur, after he waited a moment for a response that never came, opened the door. He looked over his shoulder as he prepared to leave.  
“Mum’s ill, you know. I don’t think I’ll tell her I saw you.” And Future Martin merely grunted.  
As the door slammed, Martin almost punched his future self. He did not want to become this. Could this really be what would happen to him? Or was the dream Douglas right in that this could just be his own fears playing out in front of him? He felt the reassuring hand of Douglas on his shoulder again.  
“I’m sorry, Martin. I truly, truly am sorry. “  
“Just take me to the next door.” Martin managed to croak. Douglas nodded and threw the remaining staff onto the floor. It materialised into G-ERTI’s door. Of course. Had he expected anything less?


	9. Chapter 9

Martin almost let out a sigh of relief when he found himself in the familiar inside of G-ERTI. It looked as ramshackle as ever, perhaps even more so than usual. He was about to question the Douglas-Apparition about how far into the future they were exactly, when Arthur burst into the room, carrying Martin’s hat and gasping with breath and pure excitement. He heard his own voice coming from the flight deck.  
“Come back here!” Arthur blew a raspberry.  
“Right, let’s just see about that then!”   
Martin noticed that Arthur did appear to be older than usual; perhaps it was ten years into the future again. He was wearing his steward’s outfit and was trying to move past a chair which had become entangled somehow in his waistcoat. He shouted brightly,  
“G-ERTI’s got me, no fair!”  
Future Martin burst in from the flight deck and cast his eyes wildly about for Arthur. He let out a triumphant shriek as he saw him and wrestled him to the ground. There was a mighty tousle in which Martin attempted to sit on Arthur in order to wrestle his precious hat off him. Martin had to chuckle with the Douglas-Apparition as he saw Arthur hold it to his chest singing,  
“My Hat Now, My Hat Now! Going to make a company called My Hat Now!” Future Douglas emerged guffawing from the flight deck with bright silver hair and more laughter lines, yet being the incorrigible git he was, he still managed to make it look cool. He moved over to the writhing mass on the floor and bent over it.  
“I’d try and stop him, Martin, but I have after all only just ironed my uniform. And besides, it’s time for you to finally assert your alpha dog tendencies!” He chuckled all the more at the muffled “Thanks a lot, Douglas!” The fight ceased momentarily as the door slid open and an even older Carolyn entered. Although she must be pushing mid-seventies by now, Carolyn required no stick and still looked like a tough old lady rather than a helpless one. She saw the mass on the floor and looked to the heavens.  
“I am surrounded by idiots.” Then, with a swiftness that defied her age, Carolyn bent to the floor and snatched Martin’s hat.   
“Aww, Mum! It took me ages to steal that hat! Douglas gave me lessons!” Douglas put on an entirely fake innocent expression as Carolyn turned on him.  
“Douglas, if you turn my son into another version of you he can live with you.” Douglas looked at her in mock horror.  
“I will stop my lessons immediately.” He ruffled Arthur’s hair affectionately, who giggled and sat breathlessly onto one of G-ERTI’s chairs. Carolyn smiled and turned to Martin.   
“A word, Martin?” the Future Martin mimed a beheading behind his back, which prompted Arthur into another fit of giggles. Carolyn quirked an eyebrow.  
“Fine, I’m coming!” Martin left G-ERTI with Carolyn and they made their way to the ground. Martin and the Douglas-Apparition followed close behind. When firmly a few metres away from G-ERTI, Carolyn turned to Martin.  
“So, Martin, let’s cut to the chase.” Future Martin’s cheerful expression quickly turned sober.   
“Carolyn, what’s this about?” Carolyn brought out some sheets of paper from her bag.  
“Martin, do you know what these are?” He shook his head, confusion blooming on his face. They looked very official and daunting, but to his surprise, Carolyn broke out into a large grin.  
“I finally, after all of these struggling years, managed to pay off all of my mortgages. Do you know what that means?” Martin stared at her, dumfounded, hardly able to believe it.  
“You know that one of my most hated things about this damned airdot is that I could never pay you a decent wage? It’s something that’s badgered me incessantly ever since I first employed you, Martin. All those years ago.” Martin still stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt.   
“You know how hard I’ve been trying to give you a wage these past years. That fiasco with cutting Douglas’s wages was particularly grating, especially as we had to cope with him systematically hiding all of our loose items for months.” Martin grimaced at the memory.  
“Oh God, that was hell. Carolyn, I know how hard you’ve tried.” She looked pleasantly surprised at this.  
“Thank you, Martin. Anyway, at least I managed to give you a small wage from that. Pitifully small, but at least it was something. And now,” Carolyn flung the paper to the wind.  
“Now, I can give you a proper wage.” They watched the lone piece of paper make its way across the airfield, getting caught in flurries of wind and looking for all the world like it was going to take flight. After watching this spectacle together in silence, Martin spoke up.  
“I could have taken the jobs you know. Any of the jobs.” Carolyn stiffened.  
“Martin-“  
“But MJN is my home. I’m so incredibly happy I chose to stay where I’m meant to be.” The piece of paper, caught in a sudden gust, was thrown into the air.  
“I’m so glad you can give me a wage Carolyn and finally put your mind at peace, but I just want you to know that I haven’t suffered all of these years.” They both stood companionably together, and Martin, who had been watching these events unfold with a large and silly grin, turned to the also beaming Douglas-Apparition.   
“I guess it’s time to go.”   
“Right you are, Sir.”


	10. Chapter 10

The scene dissolved once more, and Martin found himself in his comfortably familiar attic room, surrounded by all three of the MJN crew in their various get ups. 

Martin felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the others, but relaxed as he saw they were all smiling. It had been quite a horrible dream in most respects, yet he couldn’t deny that it had been enlightening. He supposed that he couldn’t quite trust the futures that he had seen, considering that they had both come from inside his head, fed by his own worries and hopes. He could only consider the events and try and learn not to make those mistakes. He pointed at each of the crew in turn.  
“The Page of Wands.” Carolyn inclined her head.  
“The Sun.” Arthur did a silly little bow.  
“The World.” Douglas did a curtsey.  
Martin pointed to himself with a frown.  
“Then, who am I?” The three collapsed with merriment and couldn’t speak for a moment. At last, Douglas piped up.  
“Oh, Martin? Isn’t it obvious?” He shook his head, still utterly at a loss.  
“You’re The Fool!” Martin pouted at this.  
“Wow, thanks, after all of that intense learning and I get to be the laughing stock.” Arthur leaned forwards, eyes wide.  
“No, no, Skip! It doesn’t have to mean that! It can mean that you’re hesitant or want to make a new start!” Oh, that was relevant, Martin supposed. He did a little bow himself, feeling slightly foolish. Well, he might as well live up to his name!  
“Well, thank you I suppose. I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” Carolyn regarded him closely.  
“Don’t forget what we’ve shown you.”  
“I won’t.” Martin could promise that. The three apparitions slowly began to fade, but Douglas made one final remark.  
“Oh, and captain?”  
One last word of advice maybe?  
“Your lipstick looks wonderful with your dress.”  
And, just before he woke up, Martin looked down to see a sparkling red dress and heels, and cursed his traitorous mind.

***  
When Martin woke up and made his way blearily to work, he had to ignore the student offering him cheese on toast at the door. 

 

 

Thank you so much if you've got to the end of this short and silly story- I had so much fun! All glory to Team Wokingham :D


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